The Vicomte De Bragelonne. Dumas Alexandre
like a shadow; silence, which permitted him to hear the sound of his own footsteps, accompanied with the jingling of his spurs upon the stone slabs.
This guard was one of the twenty musketeers appointed for attendance upon the king, and who mounted guard with the stiffness and consciousness of a statue.
"Who goes there?" said the guard.
"A friend," replied the unknown.
"What do you want?"
"To speak to the king."
"Do you, my dear monsieur? That's not very likely."
"Why not?"
"Because the king has gone to bed."
"Gone to bed already?"
"Yes."
"No matter: I must speak to him."
"And I tell you that is impossible."
"And yet-"
"Go back!"
"Do you require the word?"
"I have no account to render to you. Stand back!"
And this time the soldier accompanied his word with a threatening gesture; but the unknown stirred no more than if his feet had taken root.
"Monsieur le mousquetaire," said he, "are you a gentleman?"
"I have that honor."
"Very well! I also am one; and between gentlemen some consideration ought to be observed."
The soldier lowered his arms, overcome by the dignity with which these words were pronounced.
"Speak, monsieur," said he; "and if you ask me anything in my power-"
"Thank you. You have an officer, have you not?"
"Our lieutenant? Yes, monsieur."
"Well, I wish to speak to him."
"Oh, that's a different thing. Come up, monsieur."
The unknown saluted the soldier in a lofty fashion, and ascended the staircase; whilst a cry, "Lieutenant, a visit!" transmitted from sentinel to sentinel, preceded the unknown, and disturbed the slumbers of the officer.
Dragging on his boot, rubbing his eyes, and hooking his cloak, the lieutenant made three steps towards the stranger.
"What can I do to serve you, monsieur?" asked he.
"You are the officer on duty, lieutenant of the musketeers, are you?"
"I have that honor," replied the officer.
"Monsieur, I must absolutely speak to the king."
The lieutenant looked attentively at the unknown, and in that look, he saw all he wished to see-that is to say, a person of high distinction in an ordinary dress.
"I do not suppose you to be mad," replied he; "and yet you seem to me to be in a condition to know, monsieur, that people do not enter a king's apartments in this manner without his consent."
"He will consent."
"Monsieur, permit me to doubt that. The king has retired this quarter of an hour; he must be now undressing. Besides, the word is given."
"When he knows who I am, he will recall the word."
The officer was more and more surprised, more and more subdued.
"If I consent to announce you, may I at least know whom to announce, monsieur?"
"You will announce His Majesty Charles II., King of England, Scotland, and Ireland."
The officer uttered a cry of astonishment, drew back, and there might be seen upon his pallid countenance one of the most poignant emotions that ever an energetic man endeavored to drive back to his heart.
"Oh, yes, sire; in fact," said he, "I ought to have recognized you."
"You have seen my portrait, then?"
"No, sire."
"Or else you have seen me formerly at court, before I was driven from France?"
"No, sire, it is not even that."
"How then could you have recognized me, if you have never seen my portrait or my person?"
"Sire, I saw his majesty your father at a terrible moment."
"The day-"
"Yes."
A dark cloud passed over the brow of the prince; then, dashing his hand across it, "Do you see any difficulty in announcing me?" said he.
"Sire, pardon me," replied the officer, "but I could not imagine a king under so simple an exterior; and yet I had the honor to tell your majesty just now that I had seen Charles I. But pardon me, monsieur; I will go and inform the king."
But returning after going a few steps, "Your majesty is desirous, without doubt, that this interview should be a secret?" said he.
"I do not require it; but if it were possible to preserve it-"
"It is possible, sire, for I can dispense with informing the first gentleman on duty; but, for that, your majesty must please to consent to give up your sword."
"True, true; I had forgotten that no one armed is permitted to enter the chamber of a king of France."
"Your majesty will form an exception, if you wish it; but then I shall avoid my responsibility by informing the king's attendant."
"Here is my sword, monsieur. Will you now please to announce me to his majesty?"
"Instantly, sire." And the officer immediately went and knocked at the door of communication, which the valet opened to him.
"His Majesty the King of England!" said the officer.
"His Majesty the King of England!" replied the valet de chambre.
At these words a gentleman opened the folding-doors of the king's apartment, and Louis XIV. was seen, without hat or sword, and his pourpoint open, advancing with signs of the greatest surprise.
"You, my brother-you at Blois!" cried Louis XIV., dismissing with a gesture both the gentlemen and the valet de chambre, who passed out into the next apartment.
"Sire," replied Charles II., "I was going to Paris, in the hope of seeing your majesty, when report informed me of your approaching arrival in this city. I therefore prolonged my abode here, having something very particular to communicate to you."
"Will this closet suit you, my brother?"
"Perfectly well, sire; for I think no one can hear us here."
"I have dismissed my gentleman and my watcher; they are in the next chamber. There, behind that partition, is a solitary closet, looking into the ante-chamber, and in that ante-chamber you found nobody but a solitary officer, did you?"
"No, sire."
"Well, then, speak, my brother; I listen to you."
"Sire, I commence, and entreat your majesty to have pity on the misfortunes of our house."
The king of France colored, and drew his chair closer to that of the king of England.
"Sire," said Charles II., "I have no need to ask if your majesty is acquainted with the details of my deplorable history."
Louis XIV. blushed, this time more strongly than before; then, stretching forth his hand to that of the king of England, "My brother," said he, "I am ashamed to say so, but the cardinal scarcely ever speaks of political affairs before me. Still more, formerly I used to get Laporte, my valet de chambre, to read historical subjects to me; but he put a stop to these readings, and took away Laporte from me. So that I beg my brother Charles to tell me all those matters as to a man who knows nothing."
"Well, sire, I think that by taking things from the beginning I shall have a better chance of touching the heart of your majesty."
"Speak on, my brother-speak on."
"You know, sire, that being called in 1650 to Edinburgh, during Cromwell's expedition into Ireland, I was crowned at Scone. A year after, wounded in one of the provinces